


Another Lifetime

by thatonechapterofwriting



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: A day in the life continuation, I mean? I’d continue if people wanted me to but idk what I would write after this haha, Just a possible ending to their conversation at the end of 3x05?, M/M, Not really an AU, One-Shot, Wedding Planning, a dash of angst, but also a dash of comfort, mention of other characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 16:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17811326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonechapterofwriting/pseuds/thatonechapterofwriting
Summary: A continuation of the conversation that Quentin and Eliot had in 3x05. But, this is probably a happier ending than what might have actually happened(fingers crossed for 4x05). Queliot. One-shot.





	Another Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> Wow look, another magicians fic I wrote in a day :0! Hopefully it isn’t as bad as the last. This idea’s probably been done before, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!
> 
> I’m just trying to get predictions out before 4x05. With a dash of blind hope for Queliot endgame. Y’know. Before the show squashes my hopes and dreams :’)

The realization hit like a ton of bricks. Well, more like a speeding train whose only cargo was that of bricks. Those bricks weighed a kilogram apiece. Safe to say that when Quentin looked at Eliot and saw a glimpse of the man he had spent an entire lifetime with, the realization that he wanted to do it again was sudden, giving Quentin barely any time to reconsider the thought.

 

The thought just seemed so thoroughly planted in the forefront of his mind. There was nothing anyone could say or do to remove it. Quentin had just spent a whole life—probably about seventy or so years—with the man sitting next to him. Now, he wanted to do it again. This time though, perhaps it would feel more real and more grounded in the present.

 

The details came back so quickly like rapid fire bullets of love and pain. All the little moments of himself and Eliot walking in the woods near the mosaic; the cuddles on a cold night; the tears shed after the loss of a wife, and a son who was off to the city. Then came the mother of all bullets. Quentin’s heart dropped to his stomach when he realized that whole lifetime came to an end at the hands of the grim reaper. In trying to hide this flood of emotions, Quentin gripped the step he was seated against to stop himself from clutching his waist in anguish.

 

But he was pretty good about keeping a blank expression. It was Eliot who wasn’t so good at it.

 

“Peaches... and plums?” he mumbled over and over, quiet and solemn. His eyes danced around the room as if the room had any dots to connect. Somehow the line was drawn between them and Eliot got a eureka moment. His olive eyes lit up, but there was a wary smile placed precariously on his lips. “You... got so old,” was all he could manage as memories sluggishly dragged themselves back to him.

 

Quentin nodded. Yes. He did. “And you died,” he ended up blurting out. He swallowed, inwardly cursing himself for saying such.

 

“And you had a wife...” Eliot pointed at Quentin as if someone else was in the room, and the distinction had to be made. It would’ve felt accusatory if not for the shock beneath the tone. It was remedied quite well with the follow up. “We had a family.”

 

Warmth surged within Quentin. Just the word “family” made him nearly keel over. After everything, after the Beast, after Ember and Umber, after the destruction of magic, and after the quest... all Quentin wanted was family. Just that feeling of knowing you have someone or a group of people you belong with. Until Brakebills, he barely knew the meaning of the word. His parents separated early, and he had always preferred his dad’s company. Getting to have a family in the full lifetime felt so cathartic. To raise a kid with all his parents there felt like an accomplishment that he could fulfill for his child even though it wasn’t fulfilled for him. But family was Julia. Family was Kady, Penny, and Margo. Family was Eliot.

 

Oh, and Eliot.

 

That crush he had since the first day on campus. Who knew it could blossom into something as fruitful as that lifetime? Sure, Alice was the girl of his dreams, and truly he had loved her. Eliot at the time was just untouchable. He just had that aura of “if you even look at me I will murder you with magic you can’t even begin to comprehend or embarrass you until the end of your days.” Or at least, it appeared that way. Even as oblivious as Quentin was, he could feel Eliot’s walls melting away the more time they spent together. Time after time it seemed to prove further and further that something was pulling them together. And he had acted on his crush on that emotional night, but it wasn’t anything. It wasn’t a lot. What was a lot, was that true first kiss.

 

All of it started with a “Hey.” That “hey” turned into a lot more a couple times every week for a quite a number of years. Just thinking about it made Quentin just a little antsy.

 

In general, Quentin felt that Eliot wasn’t as untouchable as he first thought. He could be really vulnerable and down to earth when he wanted to be. Not only that, but also very in tune with Quentin’s emotions. They were like gears in a clockwork that you wouldn’t think would turn together, but end up being the essential pieces to get the clock going. They were like peaches and plums. They didn’t look like they’d fit together, but one would be surprised.

 

So... what was stopping them from doing it again?

 

Nothing. Nothing was stopping them.

 

Well. One thing. One thing was stopping them. That and a bunch of others, but mainly the one thing.

 

The quest.

 

And so Quentin wasn’t going to torture himself and ask about anything. It was over. They lived their life together. Eliot was going to go back to Fen and Idri. Quentin was probably going to go back to Alice as soon as she came around. This was the way of magicians, resigned to whatever life threw at them. Change was too hard. Emotionally taxing and all that blah. There was no point in trying to set a new course for the future already laid out ahead of them. The lifetime they had spent together was nothing more than an alternate universe. It was almost like a fanfiction, penned by Quentin’s careful hand, and illustrating every facet of life he hoped to have with Eliot. It was nothing. It was gone. It was never real. Just a figment. A lost cause and a faded memory. There was no need of mention.

 

“Are we... going to talk about it?” Eliot asked lowly, as if afraid to offend Quentin.

 

Quentin hadn’t realized he had been so lost in his thoughts. His head remained low but he looked up at least to Eliot’s legs. “If you want,” Quentin murmured in response.

 

Eliot breathed in and out, staring up at the ceiling. His thumb brushed the half-eaten peach still in his hand. He laid the peach down beside him. “It’s just so odd. We got so old. We grew old. Together.” He inhaled sharply. “Is it—“ He repositioned himself so that he was lower on the ground. He wanted to establish better eye contact with Quentin. He had to get onto the floor to do so, head resting against the bottom step. It was enough to make Quentin snicker at least. “Is it bad that I enjoyed it? Away from the others? Just us?”

 

Quentin chuckled. “No. Of course not.” Even though he also felt the same guilt. But he wasn’t about to articulate that. Nor was he going to mention the fact that he wanted it again.

 

“Hey, you’ve been kind of quiet,” Eliot observed. He was pretty good about that. “Are you okay? What are you thinking about?” his voice was measured so as not to upset.

 

With a shrug of his shoulders, Quentin slouched slightly. He looked away, unsure of how to spell out the inner workings of his mind. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. He was still wading through it as more and more memories came in. How the hell Eliot was getting through the process with such steady gaze and not even a tiny hint of emotion toward it was beyond him. “I guess... I just... I don’t know. I want— to...” Quentin shrugged again and furrowed his brows. It wasn’t going to come out. That was okay. It’s happened before.

 

“Want to... what, exactly?” Eliot asked, intrigued. He rose up and took a proper seat, edging closer to Quentin. Now it was a little harder to ignore every moment they spent together coming back. The closeness just brought them back in greater magnitude.

 

Quentin rolled his eyes. “I don’t know.” He shook his head slightly. “I guess I... since day one... and now we’ve... and I know we could but... it’s a lot... and there’s so much to do... no time for forever... it might not work but...” Nothing was coming together like he wanted. Why couldn’t he think like Eliot? Whatever Eliot wanted to happen happened smoothly. What ever went wrong for Eliot that he didn’t immediately fix? Quentin’s only hopes for getting with Eliot laid in being the only person available and he knew it. And that was what hurt the most. Now they were back in Fillory with their old lives and their present flames still burning bright.

 

Eliot’s brows met in concern. His lower lip dropped as he tensed, sensing the internal conflict Quentin was putting himself through. He leaned over and brought his slender fingers around Quentin’s left shoulder, pressing his leg against his friend’s.

 

“Hey,” he said, and tilted his head to the right, craning his neck down so that his lips could settle into Quentin’s like two perfect puzzle pieces and come away gently with a subtle pop.

 

Suddenly, all stress and pain was released from Quentin. He could have been floating on clouds at that very moment, lost in wonder and in Eliot’s somber gaze. There was nothing else to be done but to return the favor and stretch upward to kiss the tall man back. The smile left on Eliot’s lips made it all feel so worth it. The rejuvenation of hope that they could have that family again but this time in their present lives made it worth it.

 

“Coldwater... I don’t have a ring, but...” Eliot looked ready to tear up. “Marry me. Please,” his voice faltered, overcome with joy.

 

Quentin closed his eyes, pained as reality struck. “You already have a husband, El.”

 

“Things can be arranged.”

 

“I’m not good enough.”

 

Eliot widened his eyes, not in shock that Quentin would say something like that, but angry that he had. “Never say that. You know it isn’t true.”

 

“Isn’t it?” Quentin asked rhetorically. He looked away, not wanting to see Eliot’s reaction when he asked the next question. “Then why didn’t you ask me out earlier? Why didn’t you tell me you liked me so that I didn’t have to spend the better half of my year torturing myself over whether or not I even stood a single ounce of a chance with you? I know you like me. I swear, I do now. I just want to know why it took this long.”

 

Quentin stiffened as soon as he felt both of Eliot’s arms reach over his chest, pulling him into a hug wherein Eliot rested his chin on top of Quentin’s head. Calmly, they rocked. There was a bit of ease given to the current hostilities in the air, but they weren’t all removed. Wouldn’t be until Eliot answered.

 

Although not too keen on the question, Eliot finally did answer. “I didn’t think I had a ounce of a chance with you. Q, you were all pretty straight for a while there. I thought _I_ was the one with an unrequited crush,” Eliot snickered.

 

Grinning ear to ear as a couple laughs escaped him, Quentin looked up at Eliot as best he could. “No way,” he breathed, unable to believe that had just come out of his mouth.

 

“Yes. I ached over you tremendously after that night. I just thought I screwed myself over by screwing the wrong crush.” Eliot laughed harshly at himself. He calmed. “Silly now, it seems.”

 

“Very,” Quentin agreed. He closed his eyes. Well, that was settled. “So, then, what’s this about marriage?”

 

“Well,” Eliot drew the word out a bit, giving himself time to think out his next words. “We’ve already got a lifetime with each other under our belts. Things are coming back piece by piece, but I think we know enough about each other to skip the dating game. I’ve lived with you for sixty plus years—“

 

“Seventy-seven. I was keeping track, apparently.”

 

“Good on you. Point is, if you moved in to the castle, I wouldn’t even blink. It would just feel so natural.” Eliot tightened his grip which Quentin welcomed. “And I wouldn’t have to miss you so much,” Eliot pouted.

 

“Eliot, what about Idri? What about our quest?” Quentin asked the most pressing questions in the forefront of his mind. There were others, but these seemed more important to get out of the way.

 

Eliot withdrew slightly, but only to exhale and then reposition himself so that his chin was resting in the crook of Quentin’s neck. “We’ll figure this out after the quest. We’ll just get married after the quest. How’s that?”

 

Quentin shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

 

“Indulge me, Q,” Eliot commanded under his breath. “How do we want to plan this future wedding? Who’s gonna be the best man?” Quentin could feel Eliot smile against his neck. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to see how wide it was. He felt like he was dreaming, anyway.

 

“How about Todd?” Quentin suggested.

 

Eliot rose and loosened his hold on Quentin. “That’s it. Marriage annulled.” He laid back with his hands clasped on his chest. Even when he was done with Quentin, he still gazed at him with a dreamy look in his eyes.

 

“Best woman? Margo?” Quentin actually gave it a realistic thought. There was no way Eliot would stand at the altar without Margo behind him.

 

“ _Duh_ ,” Eliot responded quickly. “And then, I would assume you’d want Julia as yours?”

 

“Of course,” Quentin answered without hesitation. He gave their line-up further thought. “So, we could keep it small—“

 

Eliot scoffed. “Ew, no. I need an audience.”

 

Quentin began to speak but faltered.

 

Eliot sat upright. “I want all of Fillory to know who I love,” he disclosed whilst keeping a steady gaze on Quentin.

 

Though he didn’t share the same opinion as Eliot on the matter, he couldn’t help but smile. Eliot was just so enthusiastic about it. The way his eyes gleamed as he spoke certainly would’ve made the sun jealous. The sun shone behind him, giving him a golden outline. Quentin could’ve stared forever. He was sure he had the most dopey grin on his face.

 

“I love you too,” Quentin mumbled, feeling too giggly to properly articulate the fact. He looked down to hide the rosy tinge now on his cheeks. “Any ideas for decoration?”

 

“Well, flowery and bedazzled would be nice. But with class,” Eliot said, putting emphasis on the “class.” He raised his brows at Quentin who had rolled his eyes. “Warm colors. Reds, golds, maybe some ambers. Fuchsias used sparingly.”

 

“Hopefully not too over the top, Eliot,” Quentin fretted. “I mean, magic just went out. Don’t want to blow up the whole thing again with a big extravaganza.” He gave a weak laugh.

 

Eliot brushed a stray hair from Quentin’s shoulder. “Well, you’re going to have to dress up.”

 

“I could borrow something—“

 

“No. If there’s one thing you must do at a wedding, it is have the suits tailor made. One time use only,” Eliot said pointedly, waving a finger at Quentin.

 

Quentin raised a brow. “And what kind of weddings have you been to?”

 

“Hick weddings,” Eliot answered as he brushed Quentin’s hair out of his eyes. “And I’d like a change of pace.”

 

Quentin was fine with this. He pressed his head against Eliot’s, wishing they could stay in this moment.

 

“We’re going to have the best reception ever. Pools of wine. Fountains of chardonnay. My own signature drink spiking the wedding cake...” Eliot gushed. “I need some good alcohol so bad right now. Can we just go ahead and get married?”

 

“Quest first?” Quentin reminded him.

 

Pushing his lips against Quentin’s, he came away with a short chuckle. “Whatever, old man.”

 

Quentin gasped and pushed Eliot away from him, astonished at the tease. “You got old too!”

 

“Come at me, Coldwater!” Eliot yelled, grabbing Quentin’s hands playfully. His expression was just gleaming with excitement. Quentin couldn’t help but feel the same. In fact, his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

 

Another realization came to him. It came a little slower. It was like a bus slowing to a halt at a stop. His thoughts had finally drawn to a conclusion. Hurdles were hurdles. They could be jumped over. Every worry Quentin had melted away. All Quentin knew was that he ached for another eternity with Eliot. He already had the memories of the one they used to have, but the glimmer in Eliot’s eyes were different here in the present. Those were the eyes he wanted to see now and forever.

 

Eliot’s smile tweaked. “You’re quiet again. What’s up, Q?”

 

“Just thinking,” Quentin replied.

 

“About what?”

 

Quentin beamed, holding up their entwined fingers. Eliot chuckled breathlessly.

 

“This forever.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Edit 2/21/19: so 4x05 did come out and uh. this is technically OOC haha. weird. Not expected at all. (Tryna be avoidin spoilers here jic lmao)


End file.
